


Rookies

by nana135980



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8352316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nana135980/pseuds/nana135980
Summary: Nam Woohyun gets accepted into an intensive training program to become an officer.  Kim Sunggyu has been in training for about a year already.  The two partners get more than they asked for when their mentor decides to teach them using his own unique pedagogical methods...





	1. Mr. Gruff

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to Body Numbers

“Just wait here for a few moments and Chief Jung will be with you shortly,” his field coach points to a chair opposite a small office, the door closed and blinds folded.

Woohyun gives her a nod, dropping himself down into the seat.  He was tired as _hell_.

It was his last day of training, and the chief was going to see his scores to give the pass or fail ruling.  Woohyun was pretty confident he could make it.  He only screwed up with the codes, but how the hell is a person supposed to know those ten million numbers right off the bat _anyways_.

He stares at the wooden door, hearing the muffled voices inside the Chief’s office. 

If he passes, he would be assigned a senior partner.

If he passes, he would start getting a hefty paycheck to pay back his debts and bills.

If he passes, he would get to meet a hot piece of Mr. Officer to ogle at all day; flexing muscles and rock solid body.

Woohyun draws a grin on his face, sinking into a dreamhole of fantasies and misconceptions.  He had never really thought through the application when he applied for the officer training.  He was a broke college student who lived off cheap food, desperately trying to make ends meet.  So when he saw the advertisement on a board in his college campus, he didn’t think twice before applying and signing his contract.  The salary drew him in, the notion of being an upholder of the law not as much.

The door opens, and Woohyun jumps to his feet, taking in the first sight of his chief mentor. 

“You the rookie?”  His voice is gruff, liverish, and downright unappealing to Woohyun’s perfect image.

“Yes sir—”

“Get in here then, meet your partner.”

Woohyun’s jaw slides to the side, but he minces the inside of his cheek and walks into the small office.  It was only a desk and two chairs, the dim light as ancient as the wood in the room.  In one of the chairs a man was seated with a stack of folders in his hands, his uniform indicating he was an officer too.

“Sunggyu, this is your new partner—” The chief motions from the man in the chair to Woohyun.  Woohyun gives a curt nod, introducing himself and heading over to shake the man’s hand.

“Woohyun.  Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

The man was polite.  His hands were soft, almost unbefitting of an officer.  His front teeth stood out from his lips, catching the bridge of his nose to the small placements of his eyes.

This was not what Woohyun had in mind. 

His partner looked so… _normal_.  Typical.  Mundane.  His image of fighting side by side with a black stallion to woo into his bed were dropped off a cliff in one short second.

His thoughts are cut short when their mentor barks out his first batch of orders, bringing the first cloud of rain over Woohyun’s head.

“Now you two get that stack done and finish your field hours tonight.  I expect both of you here at six in the morning tomorrow.  Woohyun bring the donuts, Sunggyu the coffee.”

With that, he walks out of the office, leaving Woohyun flabbergasted at how _rude_ and _unfriendly_ and many other colorful words that Woohyun could not spell this prick of a mentor was to them.

He hears his partner snicker, letting out a puff of small laughter.

“You’ll get used to it, don’t worry.  Welcome to Tripoli’s police department, Woohyun.  Now put your stuff down and come fill your forms.”

Woohyun resists the urge to swear.  This man was a coy replica of his mentor, and for a second there Woohyun could hear a clap of thunder striking down on him from his cloud. 

_What the hell has he gotten himself into.._


	2. Now We're Partners

They’re following a red pick-up truck down Riverside Boulevard, keeping a distance and weaving in and out of traffic about a half mile behind. 

“Plates are stolen,” Sunggyu says quietly, his fingers typing at the PDT. 

“I feel like they’re catching on to us,” Woohyun’s sweating in his seat, his hands loose on the steering wheel.

“Just act normal.”

“What if they _shoot_ at us?” Woohyun goes off like an alarm, a nervous wreck of a soul stuck in his body.

“Woohyun, it’s a routine traffic stop.”

“You don’t care do you?”

“No, I don’t.  There, look, they’re getting on the service road, hit it now.”

Woohyun swallows the lump in his throat and follows through, gearing up right to the red truck, lights on, and flickering the siren once.  The truck slows down, signaling to the right.  It rolls to the shoulder to make a stop.

“Are you going to come too?”  Woohyun’s still in his seat, his eyes stuck on the truck in front like a hawk.  He’s pretty sure he heard a snicker from the man next to him.

“Sure.  I’m only going to be watching though, the rest is up to you.  You’ll be in control.”

They get out of their car slowly, hands by the hip, gingerly taking steps around to the front.  They barely make it to the front bumper before the truck’s wheels spin, the engine roaring as the truck takes off. 

“Damn it,” Woohyun screeches, scrambling back to the unit car, Sunggyu right on his heel.

It blows into a full-pledged chase, lights and siren in full display as the truck zooms off, merging on the highway.

“I told you they were on to us,” Woohyun starts off, the adrenaline pumping loud in his ears now.

“Of course they were, now keep your head cool and follow them.  Put your EPOC training into use,” Sunggyu sits back like a hoary pillar, the scene all too familiar to him.

Woohyun sinks his teeth into his lip.  He could swear Sunggyu _must_ have known this was coming.

The odometer has surpassed 120 by now, and Woohyun’s on the tip of the truck’s bed, impulse taking over as he reels onto it, grazing the side of the truck bed and tipping it into a swerve.  Sunggyu’s voice comes out like a hurricane, and Woohyun slams on the brake.

“Corner him,” Sunggyu’s hammering him as he gets out of the car, his voice potent as he demands the truck driver to get down on the ground.  Woohyun meets him from the other side, both of them pinning the driver down, a tangle of bodies and fists and sweat dripping-foreheads. 

They end up towering over the driver, restraining him with Sunggyu’s knee digging into his back to keep him down.  Woohyun catches his breath, radioing in their status.

“Suspect taken into custody,” he huffs out, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.  He takes a look at Sunggyu, reliving the memory of the tough shoulder he just grinded with—he was honestly surprised.  He couldn’t have imagined such grit from the paler, soft-skinned man.

The thought sticks with him for the remainder of the night, from filing a report to taking the driver to the county jail for booking. 

They’re just starting the second round, and Woohyun can’t help but say something to break the empty silence in the car. 

“So how long have you been an officer Sunggyu?”

“Officially it’s my second week,” he says with his two fingers pointing out, and Woohyun wants to punch something. 

“Then why are you—”

“—But I’ve been shadowing the chief for over a year now,” and he scrunches his face into a small smile; no teeth, just the stretch of skin of his lips arching. 

“Oh.” 

“Yup.”

Silence again.

“So… why did you apply for Tripoli’s PD?” 

Here Sunggyu gives him a small laugh, but whether he’s amused by Woohyun’s question or Woohyun’s persistence, it’s not quite clear.

“You want to know the honest answer?”  he asks, turning his head to look fully at Woohyun.

“Well, yeah.  We’re partners, we should be honest at least, right?  I’ll be up front with you, the salary could really help me out.”

“Well that too, but honestly I didn’t want to be a patrol officer.  I want to be a detective.  An investigator.  More based on using your brain and just more…interesting, you know?”

Woohyun actually takes a minute to think about that.  Sunggyu did have a point.

“Then what are you doing as a patrol officer?”

“I need experience.  At least five years.  But I think working with Jung will really help me--you know that he’s head investigator in our department, right?”

 _Oh no_ , Woohyun’s head echoed, a bitterness foaming in his mouth.

“I don’t like him,” Woohyun spits it out, venom from within the soul, too rash to think about his words properly.

It sends Sunggyu into a fit of laughter, and for the first time Woohyun hears Sunggyu’s honest ring of joy in his ears, no prejudice, no judgment, just delight.  It sends an odd feeling from his veins to his head, and he looks at Sunggyu bent over laughing, his palm on his head, hiding his face.

“Please don’t tell him that,” Woohyun scrambles, knowing he shouldn’t have let his tongue slip.

Sunggyu calms himself down, sitting back in the seat and shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he assures Woohyun, his hand petting his shoulder in a comforting manner.  “I really think I’m going to enjoy working with you Woohyun.”

.

.

.

It’s a couple of minutes past midnight when Woohyun finally makes it back to his dorm room.  Technically he shouldn’t even be there, but for two hundred dollars a month his roommate said he’d stick a blind eye to it.  He mentally notes that he should find his own apartment soon before he gets kicked out.  He’s about to crash into his makeshift bed when his phone screen lights up.

_Don’t forget 6 am sharp.  And Jung only likes glazed donuts or he’ll give you hell.  Good night._

And Nam Woohyun thinks that Kim Sunggyu might actually care about the status of his well-being for once.

_Thanks for the tip on the donuts.  Good night Sunggyu._


	3. Mercy

“Is this a routine procedure or something?”  Woohyun whispers to Sunggyu next to him, eyeing the gun held in Sunggyu’s hands in front of them.

“Think of it as training.  It’ll be over in a few minutes, don’t worry,” Sunggyu whispers back, assuring Woohyun that the situation they’re in should be considered normal.  Absolutely normal.

That is, being stuffed under a desk, on your knees and crammed in body next to your partner who’s adamant that he needs to shoot whoever walks in—then yes, it’s absolutely normal.

Woohyun wasn’t sure how exactly it happened, but he had just delivered Jung his donuts before the elder snickered, telling him to get ready for a “fire drill.” He thought it was odd to be having a fire drill at six-something in the morning, but he just shrugged it off absent mindedly.  Then he was telling Sunggyu in their shared office how weird it is for them to be having a fire drill so early, and the next thing he knows he was yanked under the desk, the lights going off, and a siren hollering in the building.

In hindsight, it all made sense to Woohyun now. 

“So this is like training for an intruder attack right?”  He huffs, annoyed at the slow shift of gears in his mind. 

“What else do you think he meant by fire drill?  A little walk outside for the morning breeze?”

Woohyun grunts back, blaming the early morning for his slow functioning.  He’s about to sigh again when the lights flicker back on, Sunggyu sighing next to him.

“It’s over.  Come on, we’ve got plenty of work today,” he says, slithering on his elbows from under the desk.

“Crooked old Jung and his crooked words,” Woohyun mutters, emerging from the under the desk and slapping the dust off his thighs and legs.

Sunggyu slaps his chest with a thick stack of sheets.

“What’s this?”

“My notes for where we’re going today.  Sit at your desk and scan them over before Jung comes to pick us up.”

“Okay…” Woohyun trails off, taking the stack and dropping his body in his creaking chair. 

Their desks were facing each other, practically glued together to make room for the chairs to fit on the sides.  The office was pretty small, with plain grey walls foreboding the image of a prison cell.  A window on the back side of the wall was the only source of natural light, and Sunggyu had it wide open before Woohyun even stepped inside.  It brought a small breeze into the room, the fresh air a misplace to the dusty old room.

Woohyun reviewed the notes, admiring how neat and yet at the same time scratchy Sunggyu’s small handwriting could be.

The light tapping of a keyboard from Sunggyu’s desk and the subtle rustling of papers lulled the air, both men engrossed in their tasks at hand.

Woohyun breathes in his new life, straightening his back as he finishes reading the last line.  He glances at Sunggyu, who’s staring intently at his screen now.

He taps the papers neatly back into a stack, placing them on his desk.  “I thought we only patrolled.  I didn’t know we’d be working in county jails too.”

Sunggyu looks back at him, seemingly pleased for some reason.

“Usually we don’t, but Jung’s been stuck on this for over a week.  He can’t seem to figure out how they’re smuggling things into the jail.”

“The drugs I understand, but why are cellphones that big of a deal?”

Sunggyu purses his lips, his eyes wandering down to his desk as he spoke.

 “They use phones to make hits on other inmates, victims, or people who got them in jail.  The most dangerous thing in prison is organization.  When inmates start to organize, it poses a great threat to the security wards, especially in the county jail.  There’s only one ward for each twenty inmates.  We’re very few in numbers..”

Woohyun lets his eyebrow rise. 

Sunggyu gives him a small smile. 

“I worked on a case with Jung before and we frequented the jail a lot.”

“What type of case?  Were you getting help from an inmate?”

“No, it’s quite the opposite.  The person who helped Tripoli police arrest and convict an inmate for murder got killed himself.  Jung was certain it was revenge.  I learned quite a bit from that case actually.”

Woohyun wanted to ask him to go on, but their mentor barged in the door, causing Woohyun to jump in his skin instead.

Jung let out another snicker in Woohyun’s direction before looking back at Sunggyu.  He held up his belt, turning his head to view both of his mentees with a glint in his wrinkled old eyes.

“Get ready boys.  Today I’m gonna carve into your heads the first rule in the book.  Be downstairs in five.”  And he wobbles off down the hallway, the door still wide open behind him.

Woohyun grunts and turns to Sunggyu, who looks like he’s actually _panicking_ for once, something Woohyun never deemed possible.

“What?  What’s wrong?” Woohyun says as he stands and grabs his gear, pushing his chair back under the desk.

Sunggyu pats his hands down on his head, almost as if he’s smoothing out his hair.  “He has that _look_ ,” Sunggyu says, finally standing up as well.

“What look?”

“You’ll see what I mean,” he says, grabbing his own items and marching out, Woohyun following suit.


	4. Orange Rags

The three men sat in the back of Sunggyu’s patrol car, fussing quietly from knee to knee.  Fifteen minutes later Jung takes out an orange jumpsuit from his bags, propping open the car door with his foot before he steps out. 

“Here,” he drops the jumpsuit where he was seated, and points a finger at the two still stuffed in the back seat.  “Remember:  wait half an hour, and if you see me, _you don’t know me_.”

Jung shuts the door loudly behind him, walking away and leaving the two newbie officers in the car.  Sunggyu takes the jumpsuit and hands it over to Woohyun, reaching to the front seat to start fabricating a report.

Woohyun takes the orange rags and glances back and forth at Sunggyu, his head like a swaying pendulum.  He clears his throat to get the other’s attention.  “Here?  I’m supposed to change here?”  Woohyun tries to come out short and aggressive, but the little crack in his voice at the end mapped an entirely different story.

“Yeah, it’s an undercover op, you can’t be seen walking out of some building in that.  What if someone sees you?” 

Sunggyu’s right and Woohyun knows it, but Sunggyu doesn’t know enough about Woohyun to see the problem—the problem in where Woohyun has zero attraction to the opposite sex.  He’s technically about to strip naked in front of a man, and that made him a bit, if not very, uncomfortable.

Sunggyu’s staring at him as if waiting for him to get a move on, and Woohyun’s blood is rushing to his head, so he tries to compromise and turns himself around, unbuttoning his shirt with heavy sighs.

He hears Sunggyu huff back at him, letting out some witty remark about _trying to hide a skimpy tattoo Woohyun?_   And he regretfully remembers how close he was to getting one of his ex’s name in a drunken endeavor.  He shudders slightly and tries to cover himself as he strips of his uniform.

“Why do I have to be the inmate though?  I’ve never even been inside a cell before,” Woohyun grunts, shedding off his shirt, his back still to Sunggyu.

“You can ask Jung that.  I’ll be using your real name by the way, but I’m changing your last name to Kim,” Sunggyu’s talking, albeit a bit more to himself, filling in the report.

Woohyun glances over his shoulder once, popping the buckle off and slipping his pants down, “Why Kim?”

“Cause I’m drawing a blank.  And by the way you’re getting arrested for possession of narcotics.  I’m gonna go with marijuana.”

With Sunggyu busy talking, Woohyun takes the chance and quickly fits himself in the orange jumpsuit, pretending it’s all normal.  He scrunches up his uniform and stuffs it in one of the plastic bags. “Fine.  How long do I have to find who the leak is?”  He’s talking and rambling, trying to let the red color flow through his veins and away from his cheeks.

“Well, let’s be on the safe side and I’m gonna put down you had a little over 2 ounces, cannabis-type, so you could technically get up to one year.”

“One year??  I was thinking more along a couple of days,” Woohyun’s lips are fluttering and flapping, and he grips Sunggyu’s sleeve, turning him to get his attention fully.  He’s five inches from Sunggyu’s face, his nails unintentionally digging into the forearm. 

“Change it.  I don’t want any negative attention.  It’ll be easier if I pretend I’m new to it and need a supplier.”

Sunggyu hums a little, and Woohyun’s grip weakens when he realizes how close they are in the little cramped space of the backseat.  Sunggyu doesn’t seem to notice, and instead he taps the pen on his cheek, obviously lost in thought. 

“Okay, you have a point.  It’s also troublesome if I put over 2 oz cause then you might be asked if you supply and that kind of defeats the purpose..”  He looks back to Woohyun, quirking up an eyebrow.  “How about a DUI then?  That’s between 3 days up to 180, we’ll pretend you’re waiting for a court date to get sentenced.  No prerequisite of anything drug related, less chances you getting suspected.”

Woohyun locks his knees together, trying to minimize the contact.  “Yeah, sure, that’s better.”

.

.

.

General population in a county jail was not what Woohyun expected.  He did not expect the hounding questioning from the staff, and he sure as hell did not expect to get looked up his ass by the county sheriff at the end of his booking.  He came in imagining all types of scenarios—tatted up people wanting to pick a fight, crooks and criminals wanting to shake him down, and his worst one of all—taunting calls of _you’ll be my bitch_ and its aftermath.  

In reality, it was really just…mediocre.  And terribly, terribly, _boring_.  Woohyun kept to himself for the first couple of hours, his skin itching from the pat down of his booking, his mind wary of everyone around him.  However, a few hours of staring at the wall was enough to get his stride back, the purpose of his mission resurfacing back above water.  His tongue itched for speech, needing to find a lead soon, and his first step was befriending an older mate over a game of Spades.

The man shuffled the cards again, dealing out to the four players on the table, Woohyun seated at his left.

“I’ll give you some advice buddy since you play well,” he says, his yellow teeth grinding together over the remains of a soft pen.  “Don’t talk shit and nobody’ll bother ya.”

Woohyun lets out a ‘yes sir’, picking up quickly on how eerily polite most people in the jail were—but obviously for a reason of pretense and no other.

“Well lookie there, we got ourselves a new ward too,” orange suit #3 creaks from the far end of the table, picking up his cards and sorting them.

Woohyun stretches his neck to see, a familiar face walking outside the bars, in a different uniform than the one he’s used to.

“He’s with Mr. Moustache.  Bet he’s a seller too,” the old man says quietly, but loud enough for the table to hear it.

Woohyun tears his eyes away from the back of Sunggyu’s head as he disappears down the hall, his instinct telling him to play on that last line.

“Mr. Moustache..what d’you mean he’s a seller?”  Woohyun asks with a dumb expression on his face, slurring midsentence.

The old man lets out a small chuckle, biting the bait.  “You’re really a newbie boy.  Be glad I’m nice enough to explain things to you,” he says with his head up 30 feet in the air.

Orange suit #4 leans down on the table, whispering to the palm of his hand, “He sells to us you idiot.”

And Woohyun suppresses a grin, continuing his dumb façade as they play another round.  In the back of his mind though, he’s starting to get worried as he thinks of how to get this information to Sunggyu without blowing his cover...


	5. Small Spaces

The opportunity never tapped Woohyun’s shoulder.  There was no sign of Sunggyu at all, and no mention of his mentor anywhere, even among the current wards.  Woohyun had to spend the next few nights in his cell, with another inmate convicted of petty theft.  To ease the time, he had spent most of the nights talking to the cellmate, trying to wring out any more information he could without sounding too eager.  After the other man had fallen asleep, Woohyun would usually organized his thoughts in his head, picking out the important details to deliver to Sunggyu when he sees him.  

 

That’s when he started thinking about Sunggyu again--he wondered if the man was still inside the county jail, and if he had made any progress on his end.  If a ward of their own was selling to the inmates, then they needed clear cut evidence before they can make such a bold accusation.  He wondered if he should personally attempt to buy from the Moustache ward, and maybe then he can personally testify in court to help the case.  In between these swirls of thoughts, right as dawn came to him in the passing of another day, he had a few solid conclusions after swimming in his head for all these past nights.  

 

First, he surprised himself at how much he _sincerely_ enjoyed doing this whole cop-detective job.

Second, he never thought he’d miss old man Jung’s annoying grace.

Third, and most strangely, his partner Sunggyu seemed to have grown on him somehow.  Some way.

Woohyun rolls over on his side, about to attempt to sleep again for the millionth time, before he heard the jingling of keys near the cell door.  He glances up, and to his utter joy he sees Sunggyu opening his cell quietly.  

Woohyun grinned, getting up from his bed, his spirits high and the joy returning to him after consecutive nights of being suffocated in between these walls.  He’s about to say something when Sunggyu slams his baton on the bars, ringing against the cell walls in a loud and unsettling echo.

“Mr. Kim,” his voice is unusually low, malice soaking his words, with an expressionless face.  “You’re being released today.  Follow me.”  

For a brief second Woohyun stares at him, and all he sees is a hard eyed, stoic man in the skin of his partner.

Woohyun makes a baffled noise, and clumsily gets up.  His cellmate ruffles around under his covers, poking his head out and giving Woohyun a thumbs up.  Woohyun follows _this_ Sunggyu quietly.  This man was not his usual Sunggyu--because the Sunggyu he knows doesn’t speak like a venomous hissing snake.  Or at least Woohyun could never imagine such spitefulness from the rather mellow man.

They reach the end of the hall, the light barely creeping in from a small window at the side of the staircase.  Sunggyu pauses in front of a door to his left, then turns around.  Woohyun wants to lock eyes with him, try to understand what’s happening, but Sunggyu simply scans around, his head whipping from side to side before he opens the door, roughly pulling Woohyun with him by the front of his shirt.  The door is shut, and the two are crammed inside the miniscule space, Woohyun’s head pushing against- _wait, was that a mop_ \--Sunggyu’s hand clamps on the other’s mouth so quickly he can’t even let out the bark of laughter he was about to spill.  

“When you get released, do _not_ go back to the station immediately--”

Woohyun fumbles around in the pitch black, feeling the defined arm underneath his fingers and shoving it back, effectively removing the offending hand off his mouth before whispering quickly, “why, what’s going on, why are you being so rude to me?”

The sinewy arm flexes tightly underneath Woohyun’s skin, and Sunggyu’s body leans forward, “I’m doing my job you idiot.  I have to make it clear to everyone that you’re just a regular dumbass, unless you want every criminal in this jail to know you’re a cop??”

Sunggyu’s face was millimeters from his own.  He should be focusing on his current situation, but in the darkness all he can do is notice the man’s smell, like petrichor after the end of a long and hazy summer. “Oh.  Well, no--”

“--no time.  Shut up.  Lay low for the next few days and I’ll call you once it’s safe to get back in uniform and give me the details from your end, ok?”

“Alright, alright.”

With that, Sunggyu brusquely opens the door again, tugging Woohyun’s shirt as they walk back out in the hallway.  The entire route Sunggyu does not look at him, nor speak to him, but Woohyun could only let a small smile color his lips because this was Sunggyu’s indirect way of protection.  Sunggyu leaves him to get processed out, and soon enough he’s in a cab, heading back to the university campus in clothes and belongings that were supposedly his.  He figured Sunggyu must have had something to do with it, because the clothes were definitely not from his own collection, even though the wallet was sure his.  When paying the cab driver he had found a note tucked neatly inside a fifty dollar bill that was definitely not there the past week, reciting the instructions to stay low until he got called.  

Woohyun leisurely walked around the campus, a little bubbling kettle of joy and content brewing within him.  Just a few months ago he had a completely different mentality--broke, debt-ridden, with a dead-end part time job, now he had a new career that he might actually enjoy, a new friend possibly, and the proud sense of achievement in finishing his first undercover operation ever.  He lightly skips to his favorite spot under the bridge, where an aging willow tree bent over itself, the leaves of it’s slender arms tickling Woohyun’s face as he lay underneath it.

The young man lets out a sigh, basking in the outside air after days of stale oxygen in a crowded jail.  He figured he’d need a thorough shower, but for now he simply wanted to unwind and relish in his freedom.  He makes a mental note to promise himself to never, ever, stray from the law, because he sure as hell never wanted to end up in a cell for more than a week at a time.  He rewinds briefly to the encounter with Sunggyu before he realizes that, _incredulously_ , he was shoved into a freaking janitor’s closet. He lets out a bark of laughter, loud and clear, paying no heed to the oblivious university students passing over the bridge and looking quite confused.  Then an idea strikes him, and he ventures to the thought--grabbing the shirt he’s wearing, and pulling it up to his nose to take a deep sniff of it.  He knew it immediately, like the instantaneous combustion of Caesium on water--this was most definitely Sunggyu’s shirt.  The man might not have been the image that Woohyun had had of his partner, but at least he was pretty considerate.  He nudges the brown paper bag with “his” remaining items- a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, some loose change and his phone.  Then he thinks for a minute, wondering if Sunggyu himself smoke; a voice in the back of his head said no, and his gut feeling seemed to agree.  Perhaps this part was Jung’s idea, either way, he’ll return the pack because he definitely did want it.  Passing that physical test was hard enough with his natural lungs, he didn’t need to add any more hindrances to it.

Lazily, with the willow swaying gently like it was cradling the child on its roots, Woohyun tried powering on his phone again, surprised to find it alive since he didn’t remember turning it off last week.  It takes a few seconds, and then he’s digging through the missed calls in the history section.  A few calls from his roommate, one from his mother--he should call her soon--another two random numbers, and then about four from a man he thought he once loved.  He contemplates the idea of just blocking that number and being done with it, but to his horror, he sees that a call was answered from him.  Four days ago.  When he was stuck in a cell.  He jaw drops slowly in a silent scream, and he’s debating on what would be worse--Sunggyu having answered the call, or the old man Jung himself.  

  
 _Damn it_. He was definitely screwed.


	6. Living Arrangements

The sound of rustling leaves filled the air as if they were whispering the coming of fall, little echoes of footsteps wherever the wind ran wild.  It had been a few days since Woohyun had gotten back, and he had used this time to catch up on his civilian life.  He was currently sprawled on the floor of his dorm room, attempting to find the best apartment location that matched his current budget. 

His thoughts swerve off their course when he hears the racket from the room inside.  There’s loud shrieks and shrills from the small kitchenette, someone screeching that monkeys can be tamed as perfect domestic animals, while another voice, which he immediately recognized as his roommate’s, called said person an utter imbecile of just lank arms and legs.      

The voices follow through to the living area where Woohyun was on the floor, and his roommate emerged with a book as thick as a plank perched between his arms.  A rather tall fellow was right on his heels, still rambling without pause until he sees Woohyun on the floor.

“I thought you guys were studying doctor-y things for that test next week,” Woohyun says with a smile, his hand raised in a greeting gesture.

His young roommate starts rolling his eyes, “We were, but then Sungyeol wanted to argue about monkeys--”

“--you asked me what pet I’d want first,” and the bickering simply flared up again.  Woohyun felt a slight longing for this playful squabble between friends, remembering the times from when he was still an enrolled student himself.  He suddenly felt aged, like years had been packed underneath his feet, lifting him to look upon the younger ones from a rather reminiscent telescope of time.

The little banter fades to white noise in the back of his mind, his eyes going unfocused as he thinks of his future.  It starts to seep into his mind that he has no solid foundation; no root goal, and it’s a struggle, wriggling around in the corners of the room to put definition in the perfect little box of his mind.

“Woohyun”

Perhaps it’s natural to fumble around like this.  Perhaps the reality of the world is rising from the horizon to dawn on him.

“Woohyun!”

He snaps out of his daze, looking up to the rumbling voice coming out of his roommates lean little body.  “Yeah?”

“You were zoning out on me.  I was asking you if you wanted something to eat, Sungyeol’s going to get some food.”

“No I already ate, thanks,” he smiles, rolling around on his back and stretching his arms over his head.

His roommate simply shrugs, and the two med students head towards the door before Woohyun yells out from the floor, pretty much talking to the ceiling more than his roommate.  “Sungjong I’ll be moving out soon, okay!”

Sungjong’s laugh comes from the door, and then it shuts behind the two, silence slowly settling back in the room.

Woohyun’s not sure how long he spent lying on that floor, thinking over and over again, trying to define his happiness.  Then the ringtone of his phone blares out in the room, and he scrambles upright when he sees Sunggyu’s name on the screen.  

“Hello?”

“Woohyun, it’s Sunggyu.”

“Hey partner, it’s been a while since I got more than a word from you.”

A small laugh comes from the other line, and Woohyun feels strangely settled.  “Listen, I want to meet up with you to write out a warrant so we can make an arrest on this case.  You should be able to come back to the office once the warrant’s been carried out.”

“Oh, good, when should we meet then?”

“I’m actually heading towards your address right now, but the GPS pulls it up as a university--”

“Yes, I’m still in the dorms--um, listen, just head straight towards the library and I’ll meet you at the front there.  They have a small coffee shop in the basement that’s usually empty by this time, is that okay with you?”

A pause of silence.

The silvery voice emerges back, “Alright, sounds good.  I’m a few minutes away, I’ll call you once I’m there.”

“M’kay, I’ll head out too.  See you soon.”

The call ends, but the motivational drive starts back up at full force, and Woohyun quickly shuts down his ancient laptop, getting up to his feet swiftly.  He shuffles around for a jacket, taking his wallet, phone, and keys in hand, he slips into his shoes and starts heading out.

His feet take the lead, his pace a bit faster than usual as he maneuvers around the massive bustle of students heading in different directions.  The library itself was a rather large building, six stories high and packed with row after row of educational materials that Woohyun has hardly ever used.  He remembers a semester where he was supposed to produce a research paper on the real-life applications of differential equations--he barely understood the equations themselves, but yet he tried to input his best effort, picking a few books to supposedly help in the task.  Those dog-eared, yellow paged, bulky books reeked of dust, the pages barely held together by ancient glue.  Even worse, the writing was so densely packed in jargon that it had made Woohyun’s head spin just by looking at it.  He shuddered, the relief spilling from him that he had passed over that phase already, and by the looks of it he hopefully would never have to open another one of those books again.

Woohyun’s barely a few feet from the library’s front doors when he spots a conspicuous gentleman, neatly dressed with a large black trench coat covering his figure, a small briefcase hanging loosely off his left hand.  

“Suggyu!”

The discernable man turns around, his sharp eyes finding Woohyun in the influx of students heading towards the front doors.  

“There you are,” he modulated his voice, the corners of his lips turning up.  “Nice university.  Pretty big place.”

Woohyun grins, “It’s alright.”

They start heading inside, Woohyun leading the way as he asks Sunggyu about the case.  They catch up on small details as they order cups of coffee, finding a secluded corner to nuzzle in and be out of view.  The warm liquid is soothing, their shoulders drooping and their bodies melding into the chairs in a lazy stretch.  Somehow they venture off the case, and Woohyun learns that Sunggyu had moved to Tripoli when he was a young child, a few memories of his old home still attached to his mind.  Woohyun offers his own background, and they argue over college life, snickering at the poor students as they struggle over texts and documents, one explaining vigorously, another highlighting chunks and chunks of writing, while a third dozed off with a slight open mouth hanging on the table.

There’s much more to be said, but Woohyun felt burdensome if he keeps Sunggyu late, and so they get to the urgent matter at hand.  And Sunggyu explains to him--how to write the warrant, what evidence is needed, what signatures are required, where to get the judge for approval, and Woohyun absorbed each strain of information with an interest that surprised his own inner self.  On the other hand, it could simply be the way Sunggyu talks; questions, questions to probe the mind and then yank the answer out of Woohyun himself in such an astute manner that proved his skill beyond the mundane basics.  

When the paper is signed, and the next steps are discussed, Woohyun feels the finality of the conversation gearing near. Then Sunggyu looks at him, and asks him quite bluntly, “If I remember right, aren’t the dorms only for enrolled students?”

The red rises to Woohyun’s face, and he stutters in his answer, “Y-yes.”

“Then you…”

“...”

“...”

“I’m looking for a place right now.  I’m just saving for a security deposit,”  Woohyun tries to explain, a little bit flustered at the exposure of his situation.

“Oh,” Sunggyu’s eyes glint, and he throws his head back and laughs.  “So it’s just a money issue?”

“Yeah, you know, I’m kind of...broke..”

“Woohyun,” he leans his elbows on the table, his eyes turning into little hilltops as he smiled, “why don’t you just stay at my house till you gathered enough money then?”


End file.
